Death Wish: Blind Date
by Robin Birdie
Summary: Peter and Wade introduce May to Al for the first time . . .


**Death Wish: Blind Date**

"I'm no fool, Wade."

Al sat forward in her chair. It was clear that she was listening attentively to her surroundings, almost as if she could somehow see with her ears, and every sound and movement seemed to grab her full attention. Peter couldn't help but admire her strength of character, especially as she refused to allow her disability to hold her back, and he wondered whether Wade had found his same strength from this woman. There could be no denying that Al provided an excellent role model.

The elderly woman currently sat with legs slightly apart, with her cane between them and her hands rested on top of it, and she hunched forward ever so slightly, so that it appeared to Peter that she may spring up at any moment. He watched her as she listened to Wade, as he prepared their hot drinks. He watched her as she listened to his aunt's small talk. It was almost eerie to watch, because – although her eyes were hidden behind the black visor – he had the feeling that she was hyper-aware of all three other occupants in the room, in particular she seemed _very _aware of Wade.

"You really are a crazy old bat," Wade snapped.

"Yeah, well, you better not be spiking my tea, boy!"

"Please! You always assume the worst of me! I'm not that bad!"

Wade stirred the cups a little too forcefully, so that the contents splashed over the sides onto the pristine work-surface, and the teaspoon he threw angrily over at the direction of the sink. He missed. It left a small brown spot on the tiles of the wall, before it fell onto the floor with a clatter that made Peter wince, but Al – forever stoic and calm – didn't so much as acknowledge the small tantrum of Wade's at all. It was only then that the old woman gave a small and sad sigh.

"You're right, Wade," she said. "Here, you come and sit down. Miss May seems a very lovely woman, only right that you treat our guest with some respect. I'll bring the drinks over, don't you worry now. I know just how you like yours."

"Aw, and in that moment her heart grew ten sizes!"

It was then that Al slowly stood up, albeit with a show of struggle. There appeared to be a fragility to her that there hadn't been earlier that day, so that her joints made her flinch a little on bending and her balance was thrown slightly off, and yet – despite May's protests that Peter help – she rose a shaking hand to tell them all to shut up and stay put, as pity wasn't appreciated. It felt almost like an act, as if she _wanted _them to see just how elderly and pained she was, and – well – that worried Peter.

Wade merely scoffed and threw himself down onto one of the chairs, so that he was to May's right and opposite Peter, but he at once threw his feet up onto the table and leaned back in his chair. He appeared almost childish, like a teenager groaning about being made to do work against their will, and he didn't seem to care that his boots were leaving small mounds of mud on the rim of the table, just as he didn't seem to care that May was now glaring at him. The hood of his top had fallen just slightly, so his brown eyes were visible and so was his huge grin of victory, and he caught Peter's look of disbelief directly and winked conspiratorially. Yeah, he had done _something_.

Peter felt uncertain whether to say anything. He felt that Al knew Wade well enough to know what to expect, as well as having keen enough taste to detect any poisons, and he _hoped _that his boyfriend wouldn't slip anything _dangerous_. He wished that he knew their dynamics better, because he didn't know whether to intervene. Wade had to learn not to _do _things like this! He wanted to say something, but – before he had opened his mouth – Al returned with four cups on a tray. She distributed them with a smile . . . one that turned to Peter with a dangerous _knowing_.

"Drink up, best whilst it's hot."

"Oh, it smells delicious," said May. "It's so hard to get a good cup of coffee in this city, which is so surprising when our city is world-famous for its culture! You know, I can't even _remember _the last time that I had a cup that smelled this good!"

"I do," muttered Peter. "It was last week, remember? You commented on how you loved the coffee, but then Dad told you about how Wade and I had been dating for the past year, then you _both _gave me a lecture that lasted until Mom got home. I remember, because the coffee went cold and Dad tried to _microwave _it warm again. I bet Wade and I didn't seem so bad after _that_."

"Yes, well, we only want what's best for you, Peter." May sighed and placed her cup firmly down on the table. "I'm so sorry, Al. I don't mean to imply that your boy isn't good enough for Peter, as I know just how charming he can be when he tries, but – you must understand – it is all very worrying. Wade _is _a dangerous man."

"A bloody stupid one, too," Al answered. "Least for a smart man."

"Interesting oxymoron."

Wade rolled his eyes at that, before he pursed his lips and appeared to think, although – as Peter knew at this point – his boyfriend was likely talking to the boxes that he heard in his mind. There was a long moment of both women simply sharing a smile, as they sat opposite each other and appeared to just _know _what the other was thinking and feeling, and it made him wonder whether all older women could somehow be of one hive mind. He wondered what they expected that he didn't.

"Hey," Wade shouted, "_she's _the moron!"

Ah, maybe they were awaiting the outburst? It didn't seem to help that Al's smirk grew at the remark, or the fact that it grew a further tenfold as Wade downed his scalding drink, and May appeared to try to hide a giggle in turn. The fact was that both women appeared to be in on a joke that he was not, and Wade didn't react very kindly to this. He likely assumed that he _was _the joke, which was not something that Peter ever wanted his boyfriend to feel. He reassured him the only way he could.

Peter reached across the table and reached out for his boyfriend's leg, which was difficult to reach when he had planted both feet onto the table, but he was just about able to nudge his ankle to get his attention. Wade looked back at him with a frown, but then smiled when he caught Peter's devilish smile. The two women didn't appear to notice the two men signalling to each other silently from across the table, even as their facial expressions began to grow more extreme and animated, and it was then that Wade pulled a face that made Peter break into pearls of laughter.

"You be polite, boy!" Al snapped.

"Hey, don't give me commands like a damned dog!"

"You want a command?" Al snapped. "Here: get your piss-smelling feet off of my table! I smell or hear those feet again on my wood, you know what I'll do? I'll leave the broken glass in your boots! Try walking anywhere after that!"

"I'm _wearing _my boots, can't you see? Oh, wait . . . you can't!"

"Oh, not _those _boots, my lad."

"Then what -?"

Wade dropped his chair to all fours. It gave Peter a chance to reach out and brush his boyfriend's leg with his foot, which would usually be enough to relax Wade or at least get him to play back in turn, but he actually appeared to be considering what Al had told him and seemed to think that she was serious. He then forced himself to his feet and dropped both hands on the table, which – Peter was glad to see – were both relatively free from blisters and open cuts. Wade was relatively healthy today.

"Got to go! _Got to go!_"

"Wade?" Peter asked. "Are you okay?"

"Uh-uh! Bathroom! Bathroom! _Bathroom!_"

The older man ran out of the room quicker than he had ever imagined him capable of moving, so that the door swung open and stayed open, as Wade apparently lacked the time to even close it on his way out. It made Peter sigh at the sight, especially when Al was there with a rather dangerous smirk on her face. Wade's chair had fallen onto the floor with how quickly he had shoved it to one side to run, whilst somewhere down the hall he heard Wade screaming obscenities, and Al simply continued to smirk. He hated the idea of Wade suffering. He hated more that she could smile at it.

"You have sharp perception," said May.

"You have to with that boy," replied Al. "If I didn't switch the drinks, I would have drank that stupid concoction myself. The bastard deserved it, so don't you feel too bad for him! He put some sort of lubrication on the handle of my stick on his last visit, very nearly fell down the stairs with that one, and the time before that he swapped the shampoo for some sort of hair-remover. He's a tricky one, that lad."

"To be fair," interrupted Peter, "he said that you rearranged his furniture and changed the locks to his apartment, then told him he never actually lived there, so he _genuinely _thought he had forgotten where he lived and acted homeless for – like – a week."

"What are a few harmless pranks between family?"

"They don't seem all that harmless."

There was a dangerous smirk on her lips. He wanted to pretend that he understood their relationship, which included their dangerous stunts and constant bickering, but it was hard to see how such a relationship could be healthy. It clearly worked for them, to the point that actually displays of _kindness _were treated with distrust at times, but that wasn't the kind of relationship that Peter wanted with Wade. He wanted complete trust and openness. They were close to achieving that, but with Al . . .

He wondered whether this strange rivalry, between Wade and his mother-figure, would contribute to him believing this behaviour was normal and acceptable, and – to be frank – it hurt Peter to have to witness the behaviour. Wade often traded insults with Peter, but all in the name of teasing and jest. It was becoming less and less, but it was still there, and Wade was a good man . . . Al was a good woman, too . . . neither one deserved to be treated badly. It was obvious that Al was as strong as Wade, so that either one could stop the behaviour should they take exception to it, but it still grated on Peter. He just wanted to run to Wade and hold him.

May gave a small cough. It caught Peter's attention and caused him to look to his aunt, who then raised her eyebrows enough to give him a warning, followed by giving a smile that said that she expected Peter to show some more respect. He could see how he could be viewed as petulant, but he was honestly just very protective of his boyfriend. He knew that all families had different dynamics, but he could hear Wade groaning from down the hall and the multiple toilet flushes, and he just _knew _that the ex-mercenary was suffering. It was a form of torture.

"I see where Wade gets his humour," said May.

"He was like that way before I met him," Al answered. "He's a good lad at heart, but he spent his whole life being told he's worthless. If you don't treat him bad from time to time, boy won't trust you, not to mention he likes to control the pain."

"That's . . . a little worrying. I remember a time when Peter felt that he wasn't worthy of love, especially after what happened with poor Gwen, but we told him every single day how loved he was and how it wasn't his fault. I must admit, since I've learned that they've been dating, I do wonder whether Peter would have been just like Wade had he not had the family that he does. It's so easy to slip into a dark path."

"Don't I know it! Your boy's a good one," Al said kindly, "but he's never known pain like our Wade has felt. You feel pain day after day after day, both in your body and in your gut, then it does things to you. It makes you stand tall or fall down. A lot of people learn to be bigger men, to use that pain to stop others from feeling it, but others get all lost in what they feel . . . they can't see past the pain . . . totally blind to any love or happiness or goodness! You think only the pain's real.

"Our Wade went to dark places. Hell, if he was still that man, I'd tell you and your boy to run and never look back, but . . . he's grown. He wants to stop people from feeling the shit that he's been through, but he doesn't know how to do that. No one taught him how to be a good man. Your boy is the only person to ever treat him like a human! He thanks Wade for a job well done, just as he doesn't turn him away or reject him, and he doesn't mock him for his face or his dresses or his strange ways. He'll learn in time, but until then he doesn't know what to do. He's scared. He doesn't want to lose me, so he pushes and prods and provokes . . . what can you do?"

"He tries to push you away so that you'll leave on his terms."

"It's always on his terms with that boy."

"It's awfully sad."

Peter let the hot cup warm his hands. It was a nice distraction, even as he heard footsteps outside of the kitchen door, but then – just as quick as he had heard them – they quickly ran back to the downstairs bathroom. There was no sound of a door closing, but he assumed that there wasn't time. He wouldn't mind standing there to comfort Wade. It wasn't pleasant, by any means, but he had done it before when the older man was sick and it seemed to distract him from his pain. He trusted Peter to see him at his most vulnerable. He _trusted _Peter.

"Wade's getting much better," said Peter.

"That he is," said Al. "I think he's realised that you're not going anywhere, but you're young and infatuated with him and getting all the benefits of a physical relationship, but what's tying him to anyone else? Nothing! Just loyalty. That's it. The only reason that I'm by his side is because I want to be, but the way that boy sees it . . . won't be long before I realise what a shit he is and leave him. He don't realise I already see it."

"You see him for all he is," replied May. "I think the young often forget we older folks have lived life just as they have, as well as having seen them through their best and their worst. It says a lot that you still love Wade. He must have some truly redeeming features, if you can still love him that strongly."

"You hear of a 'diamond in the rough'? He's like more like that diamond ring you swallow when some fool of a man tries to be romantic. Ring in the champagne, my ass! Anyway, once you shift through the shit . . . heart of gold!"

"That's an interesting way of putting it."

Al gave a wide smile, before she turned her head to look at Peter. It was strange, as they all knew that she couldn't see, but there was still _something _there that spoke of a deeper understanding that went beyond his comprehension. There was a crinkle to the corner of her mouth, which only highlighted the age of her and the wisdom behind those casual and cool words, and he almost felt as if she were somehow looking right at him, even if such a thing were impossible.

It was then that she looked away, but when she gave a few soft nods of her head when she did so, almost as if she were thinking to herself. Peter turned to look at his aunt, only to see that she was staring sadly into her coffee with an almost longing look, and a part of Peter felt incredibly relieved that he had brought her here. May would finally see what Peter could in Wade. It would help to hear from someone nearly her age, as well as someone that had such close and personal attachments to Wade, and maybe she would finally see that he was more than the man that used to be a killer and that would be badmouthed by Tony, and she would see that he was _good_.

"He's an interesting man," said Al.

"He's a good man, too." Peter looked to May imploringly. "I know you have your doubts, which is why probably why you insisted on seeing Al, but he's a good soul, Aunt May! I wouldn't have dated him for this past year, if he had been anything other than the man he is or not been as loving as he has! He's intelligent and funny and affectionate . . . I know most people don't see it, but he's handsome too! He's fragile at heart, but he's stronger than most people I know. I love him."

"Fragile is right," muttered Al. "He's more likely to hurt himself than your nephew. He cuts himself, because he's bored. He'll shoot himself, because he's bored. He would rather die temporarily than face his pain. Peter has been his hero for years now, so much so that he even has himself some Spider-Man underpants and a plush-toy that he keeps on his bed, and he would rather hurt himself than Peter."

"Aunt May, I know how he may seem. I won't lie . . . he's crude and violent and childish, but he's also the same guy that pretended to be Spider-Man and took a sword to the heart, just so I'd be safe. He never hurts children. He's willing to let the X-Men _beat _him to make _them _look good. He even protected me from –"

"Okay, okay," said May. "I understand, Peter. I honestly do."

"So you're okay with us dating?"

It was then that Wade appeared by the doorframe. He looked rather pale, whilst his hood hung badly on his head and gave a shadow to his eyes, and he leaned on the doorframe with one arm. Peter looked down to see his boyfriend clutching his stomach, which made him clench tightly onto his cup. It took every ounce of strength not to run over to Wade and fuss him. He would be okay, wouldn't he? He hated to see him suffer, even if it was his own fault for being so sick.

The three at the table waited patiently for Wade, as he groaned and slowly dragged himself over to his chair, picked it up and threw himself into it. He then let his head fall back so that his hood fell clear off his head. It made Peter smile to finally see his boyfriend's face entirely, but a part of him worried at the sight of it. He knew Wade wouldn't let his face be on show unless he was too sick to care. There was just simply no way that he would want May to see him like that, especially when he was still trying to win her over and make a good impression, and he did look awfully ill still.

Peter reached out with his feet to pull Wade's leg towards him, which didn't get quite the response that he had expected. Wade, however, did fall forward and dropped both arms onto the table, where he then buried his head into his arms and reached out his other foot to hold onto Peter's leg. It felt a little strange to have their legs locked together, but they couldn't really hold hands before his aunt, at least not without feeling a little uncomfortable in the context. This made them feel close.

"What did I miss?" Wade asked.

"My nephew has been singing your praises," said May. "Al, too."

"Here I thought I was the crazy one! It couldn't have taken that long to list all the good things about me." Wade laughed loudly. "I thought I had been gone longer than that, especially when I was on my fifth flush! Seriously, Niagara Falls has nothing –!"

"Wade," Peter begged, "toilet talk is _not _a way to win my aunt over!"

"It's perfectly fine, Peter," said May.

There was a sincere smile upon her face. It was a softness that he often associated with his aunt, but one that he hadn't expected to see her wear in regards to Wade. He would be the first to admit that his boyfriend had made a bad impression, or at least his murdering of an elderly woman in his aunt's very home had made that bad impression, and since then she had been sceptical and cynical of their entire relationship. He had been afraid of telling his parents, but _terrified _of telling his aunt. It was a great relief that she seemed to finally be taking it well.

"Peter and Al seem to think you're a good person," May said.

"Well, I try," admitted Wade. "It's hard at times. _That's what he said!_ Inappropriate joke. _Not when he actually said it_! Shut up! Anyway, I haven't killed anyone since the whole incident, plus I've helped a lot of people, and I want to be good for Petey!"

"That's what I'm told. I'll be honest, Wade, I do have some concerns. You are an intelligent man and have experienced enough to understand my position, so I won't dare to patronise you. I'll make this incredibly simple. I'm going to ask you some questions and I want you to answer honestly. Do I have your word you'll do that? _Good_. Now then: do you promise that you'll treat my nephew with respect?"

"Totally! Okay, well, there are some times I don't. You can't hold that against me though! I mean, sometimes it's _fun _in the bedroom to -! I suggest silence. Huh, good idea. Er – I treat him with respect where it counts and would never hurt him! He's both my best friend and my boyfriend! I'd never treat him badly!"

"That answers my other question, just one left: do you love Peter?"

"Yeah. I love Peter."

Peter jumped in his seat. It wasn't that Wade was shy about professing his love, but he hadn't expected the older man to admit it so openly and honestly before his aunt, and – in all honesty – he felt a rush that he couldn't begin to describe. He could feel the goofy smile on his face, just as he could feel the blood rush to his cheeks as he blushed wildly. He couldn't stop his heart from beating loudly in his chest.

He looked across the table to Wade, who was smirking in a rather dangerous kind of way, and it seemed that the ex-mercenary had decided to ruin the moment by sliding his foot up Peter's leg. Peter drew in a deep breath. He waited until the foot came to his thigh, before he kicked Wade so hard in his shin that he hunched over and tears sprung to the corners of his eyes. Wade soon withdrew the foot, but a part of Peter feared that this was all a joke, especially with the foot-playing under the table. It was then that Wade looked at him and spoke slowly and with complete seriousness:

"Petey, I love you," said Wade.

"Well, that's that then," replied May. "I expect you _both _at my home this Sunday for a family meal, and I shan't take no for an answer! I shall also warn you to _never _hurt my nephew, as you'll be answering to _me _directly, but I'll _also _say that Peter is lucky to have someone that cares so much for him. I'll tryto put in a good word with Tony for you both, but in the meantime . . . don't antagonise Peter's father."

"I swear, Miss May! I'll be good! I never meant to embarrass Petey in the first place, but I let my temper get the better of me and I shouldn't have done that. I'm meant to put Petey first! I'll promise I'll do better at your meal! I even have a suit and everything! I'll be the best nephew-in-law ever! I'll be good!"

"Well, what more can an old woman say to that?"

"Thanks, Aunt May," said Peter.

May nodded gently to him. He looked down awkwardly, before he looked up to see that she truly meant all that she said, which meant that they had her full support. It was then that his aunt reached out to him and took his hand, where she then squeezed it tightly and then reached out for Wade, although the other man's hands were hidden underneath his folded arms. She touched his arm instead, before she gave a warm smile that made Peter feel infinitely better about their situation.

"I suppose I ought to get to know Wade better," said May.

"I have some stories to tell!" Al laughed and downed her drink. "That boy there has more embarrassing stories than we've had hot dinners, and I'm not afraid to tell them either! I bet your boy has some stories to tell, too. You know there was this one time, bastard just regenerated some limbs of his, but he wouldn't stop playing with this one limb of his! Played the 'boingy' game! Ah, it's good to embarrass them!"

"Oh, that would be too cruel! I wouldn't _dream _of embarrassing my nephew."

"Good to give into temptation ever now and then."

"That _is _certainly true!"

May laughed loudly and winked at Al. It was true that the blind woman couldn't see the gesture, but she seemed to sense the intent behind it, for at once she lifted her empty glass in a mock salute to May. They seemed to get on quite well, which led Peter to picture awkward future events, ones in which the two elderly women would get together to swap stories about their boys and exchange the latest gossip, and frankly he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or horrifying thing.

He looked over at Wade, but he had returned to putting his head onto his forearms and appeared to nuzzle into it, as if he were trying to nap past the noise. It was clear that he still felt sick, which – were they at home and alone – would usually be enough for Peter to run a bath and let Wade soak for a while, before he would massage his back with oils to help soothe his skin. The difference was that this time it wasn't his cancer that caused him pain, but a stomach upset. They weren't home either. The home in which he planned to invite Wade to move into, so that that could spend more time together and become a real couple . . . he _really _wanted to go home.

"Can we go?" Peter asked.

"No, I don't think so," said May. "I'm having such a wonderful time with Al! It'd be nice to share some stories, but it would be very rude were you both to leave. No, you can stay right here, I think. There are _many _stories to tell about you."

"Uh-oh," Wade muttered. "More wind than a Dutch Windmill! I got to go again!"

"I'll follow!" Peter shouted. "I got to make sure you're okay."

"Pretty sure I can poop alone!"

Wade ran out of the room as fast as possible, so that the only sound was the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut down the hall, and at once Peter stood up and looked nervously out of the kitchen. It wasn't just an excuse, but a genuine concern. He had looked after his boyfriend through the worst of his illnesses and injuries, having sworn to always protect Wade, and the idea of Wade being ill alone . . . he knew that his aunt was right though. It would be rude to just leave Al, but he couldn't just leave Wade either! He bit his lip and shook his head in apology.

"Er, he sounds sick. I better go comfort him."

"Peter, don't you -!" May sighed. "You can avoid the embarrassment now, but you just wait until we head home! You don't get to introduce me to your boyfriend's mother without getting _something _to blush about! Oh, and no hanky-panky in there either! I was young once, too, you know! I don't want to head to the bathroom only to see something that I shouldn't! You both behave, okay?"

"Oh God, I can't -! I don't even -! I – I'm going to check on Wade."

"Least he's not singing 'burning ring of fire'," Al muttered.

"I'm gone!" Peter shouted.

He quickly ran into the hall and headed down to the bathroom. It was safe to say that the noises inside weren't pleasant at all, but at least it was better than being embarrassed to death by his aunt, especially when he could provide some comfort to Wade. He would be able to sit on the edge of the bath and talk to him, maybe rub his back or bring him some water, and – as he thought about his aunt and Al – he realised one thing, one very important thing:

They had her approval . . .

Peter smiled.


End file.
